


super rich kids

by reguvlus



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Cocaine Bricks, Cutting Bricks, Drinking, F/F, I mean overall this is pretty tight, Like, M/M, Multi, Smoking, This is all really shady, and all of these tags are kind of a fucking r e a c h, b u t...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reguvlus/pseuds/reguvlus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Potter is throwing, like, the best party in town and Sirius just wants to make sure that he has a great time. Regulus just wants to stay home and drink Walburga's wine and Orion's scotch. Marlene and Lily just want the free alcohol, Remus just needs a fucking cig and Peter is feeling really attacked right about now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely going to be at the least four chapters long, and the length will increase considerably from 1,000 words to at least 5,000/chapter. So, yeah. That's a little something to marinate on. This fic is heavily influenced by darker themes such as drugs, violence, sex, and lots of prongsfoot and Tom Riddle being a coke lord. So, you know, that's what I've been doing. Just for a good time. There won't be any jily or wolfstar either because that's just not a vibe for me.  
> PSA: This version is different from both the tumblr and FF versions

 

"Is that-? Are you holding a fucking _dildo_ –?"

" _Shut the fuck up_!" Sirius snapped, looking back at regulus with narrowing grey eyes as regulus' mouth opened, only a huff of indignation slipping out. "You just shut the fuck up!"

"You're _mental_. Absolutely mental." Regulus moved over to the opposite side of the box that sirius was wrapping awfully, shaking his head.

"–Couldn't just be a nice friend and get a lovely and perfectly normal birthday gift, huh? Just had to pop up with a fucking _dildo and card_ for James Potter." He walked to the fridge and he heard the flat of a delicate palm slapping the marble countertop.

"It'll be _great_. James'll have a good laugh-" He slicked the taped sides up the side of the box with a gentle slap, eying regulus now as he straightened out and flipped his hair out of his face. "Besides, he's _my_ best friend. I think i have quite a good idea of what James likes."

"You're right. Besides, you're basically always riding his cock, _so_ …"

"Watch it, Rex." sirius' eyes were dangerous now as their hazy eyes pierced into one anothers'. "You're making me into a fucking joke and you will _not_ like the punch line."

And that was that.

* * *

 

James was standing outside of the liquor store with peter and remus, who were idly scrolling through a coffee-stained list of goods from the last party that sirius held. The police got called and there was a huge swarm of people fleeing the club on 12th but it was fucking _dope_. 

"I take it we're going for mass alcohol poisoning?" Remus took a drag from his lucky strikes and Peter just shuffled uncomfortably next to them, peeking over at the list.

"It wouldn't be a party if the goal was anything but, dear." James dug in remus' pocket and fished out a cig, shoving it between his lips and catching the light that peter tossed. He let out a few puffs as they all closed in like little birds, circling the paper.

"Maybe we should go in now, yeah?" Peter looked over his shoulder before peeking back at his friends. "Or, you know, we could stand out here and shrivel in the sun. Whatever's choice."

"Peter." James looked over out the corner of his eye, "Don't be such a wuss, alright? We'll go in a minute. I don't need your heavy breathing messing up our little adventure, alright?" He flicked his cig and looked across the street at the bridge.

"Right, a minute. You're always on the mark, james." Peter agreed unconvincingly while James gave him a steady glare that he didn't shake. "--never manage to cock anything up, do you?" He muttered under his breath.

"Peter, don't get ahead of yourself. you might end up like your cheese– _diced_ , **_bitch_**."

" _Hey_ –" Remus, on the other hand, managed to grab them both and yank them inside, shocking both boys as they nearly jolted out of their skins. They lurched forward inside of the dingy store, James unwilling to even prepare his I.D. because–

"Hey, James!"

"Sal!" James looked back with a cheery gape before proceeding onwards down a particularly filthy isle."Let's see!" his disposition was positively bright and his eyes shimmered with mirth as he began, ticking off the list as he collected his stock.

"Five fine bottles of wine for my indulging," Tick. "One bottle of Agricole, some bourbon, and at least two bottles of whiskey…"

"Have you made sure that Sirius isn't buying alcohol?" Remus peered from around the corner, his hands desperately digging through his pockets for a forgotten cigarette. He needed something to help him deal with Peter and James together. He barely even fucking liked them so like _what_ –?

"He's not. I told him that i've got the means this time come." James was holding a rather large spirit out in front of himself before they heard a small stir and looked to the side. Peter was holding a bottle of schnapps up, looking back at them.

"This could work too, right? It's cheap." Remus knew it was a 'get the job done as quickly as possible' suggestion, but he could only imagine the look of _terror_ on James' face.

Strangled noises emerged behind him and he turned, seeing a wide-eyed, slack jawed James gaping at Peter with his mouth fixed to give them a fucking morsel of his shrill scream that everyone inside of the store to two blocks down could only identify within dog decibels.

" _I am not_ …" he began gravely, taking the bottle out of peter's hand and moving it back to it's place on the shelf. Remus moved in front of the isle and extended his arm protectively over the encased spirits as not to give James any leeway to allow his fucking wild arms to sends hundreds of dollars worth of booze crashing to the ground faster than the titanic.

"–nor will i _ever_ be…" his hiss caused Peter to cower under his ferocious gaze and their finicky friend turned to remus, who just looked boredly over at the small television in the corner that had a particularly engaging view of the reflection of the store. "... ** _that_ _cheap_**."

Remus couldn't _even_ …

* * *

 

"So, like, are you going to potter's party, or not?" Marlene was at the foot of lily's bed with a bushel of dried flowers, arranging them meticulously on Lily's favourite soft creme comforter that her mum just sent last week. Her pastel nails were delicately switching their places and she looked up through frizzy bleach-blonde curls.

"I mean, it's free alcohol, so i think you _know_ that i'm going…" Lily had her eyes on a very nice pair of jeans and she was mentally pairing them with the chunky boots that she had bought not even two weeks ago. "Besides, everyone will be there. It's not like it'll be a **complete** bust."

"Unlike the party that sirius threw last year? The halloween bash?" Marlene scratched at her dark roots and then made her brown hand into a delicate fist, checking under her nails, "I think Lucius Malfoy still has the mark near his temple from where Narcissa threw her heel."

"Wasn't that a louboutin?"

"It _was_."

"Well, i'm definitely going now." Lily's smile was bright and her hair was probably brighter. She pushed a hand through its length and checked her phone. You'd think she was getting too old for this shit, but there's no such thing as too old. If you've got the money and the time, you may as well do whatever the fuck it is you want.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are brief allusions to self-harm, recreational drug use, and suicide attempts. So if you're triggered by these mentions, take precautions! Also, you should follow me on tumblr @reguvlus. lmao bye

Bella’s been doing coke lately, so she’s been just a _tiny_ bit crazier than ever.

This is worse than when she and Narcissa were in high school and she would chew bars of Xanax while juggling sucking their neighborhood dealer Tom Riddle’s cock in his black BMW in the Whole Foods parking lot, but, admittedly, this was a _bit_ of an upgrade for Bella. 

Narcissa, however, was sitting on the inside of one of the two family estates with a _depressingly_ pretentious confessional novel and a cup of freshly-brewed coffee from her French Press. The air was crisp and cutting and she sat in the morning light of the sun-room with the hand-painted china her mother had acquired on one of her exploits in the Ukraine. A half-eaten croissant decorated with faint lipstick marks sat on a flake-ridden french porcelain dessert plate on the glass-top and she somehow couldn’t stop the taste of her mother’s favourite dessert wine from turning in her stomach.

She _really_ needed to stop drinking so early in the morning or she’d turn into Uncle Orion.

Her phone pinged and she looked down and saw a text from a happy and probably simultaneously high Bellatrix:

  * cissy


  * potter is throwing a party 2nite


  * with 


  * like


  * alcohol


  * are you in?


  * **um, no? i’m literally at the estate and lulu is taking me shopping**


  * …nyways


  * its free alcohol. so


  * ill ask u again


  * r


  * u


  * in?


  * **…yeah.**



Narcissa reaches into the pocket of her crepe Valentino skirt and pulls out her pack of cigarettes and taps them against the glass top before fingering one out with freshly-manicured peach nails. She slides a clove tobacco cig. in between her lips and lights it with a quick snap before leaning into the seat, watching her Zanotti loafers slide over recently polished marble floors. She has one question brewing in her mind and it’s almost quite moot:

What the **fuck** do you wear to a street-rat party?

* * *

 

“Sirius, where _are_ we?” Regulus’ whine was almost mechanical as they walked up the winding path to one of the Lestrange houses up the street from their own and after a vague shrug from his brother, he ran a hand through his hair and shoved them in his pockets to stop this **fucking anxious shaking** his fingers were doing. If he died, at least he knew _mummy_ would miss him.

“We’re about to buy some quality cocaine from the Lestranges. You remember them, yeah?”

  
The most he remembered about them was the time that they were in private school and Bella had fucked Rabstan’s brains out and Rodolphus may or may not have sold some shrooms to a _**really** fucked up kid_ during their second year of boarding and he ended up cutting his wrists in the Flint’s bathroom.

 So _yeah_ , Regulus **remembered** the _fucking Lestranges_.

They’re suddenly in front of a gated structure and Sirius is saying something low into a speaker before the gates swing open and they’re walking up a paved driveway to a large, dark-coloured three story house with pillars on the steps. The door swings open when they make it to the second step and in the foyer stands Lucius Malfoy with a sour expression and his silk-pressed shirt unbuttoned with a handkerchief shoved into the pocket. There’s an empty dorset scotch glass in his hand and a white line across his right nostril. 

“Hold on.” he grunts and moves forward into the house, his oxfords clicking against granite as he heads straight into the living room with Sirius at his heels. Regulus is still standing in the doorway, confused and unrelenting to _blindly walk in_ to two crazy, drug dealing rich kids’ houses.

There’s a shuffling as Regulus cautiously enters, gently closing the door and turning his head. A soft ‘ahem’ startles him and he turns and sees Tom Riddle staring back at him with black eyes that are absorbing all of the light of the stained glass windows and reflecting none back out. His mouth is a thin rosy line and his cheeks are cutting and sharp; nothing but angular lines and finely crafted, almost elysian features. 

“How may I help you today, Mr. Black?” he asks, brandishing what looks to be a small tin from his neatly pleated pants and he dips a finger inside and quickly rubs it under his upper lip, swiftly pulling out a white napkin and brushing away any residue left on his finger. He slides the tin back into his pocket and runs two hands down his neatly pressed white shirt, which also happened to have the top few buttons undone. 

If you asked Regulus what fear was in this moment, he would tell you he was staring at an inferno. Tom Riddle was not _only_ scary because he was the most notorious drug dealer this side of the suburb, but he was fucking Bellatrix Black. If that itself wasn’t scary enough, there was a rumour that Tom would soon be acquiring a semi-automatic rifle. 

When you’re standing this close to someone who doesn’t value life, it _kind of_ thrusts things into perspective.

It was known on good authority (through the grapevine of the Malfoy’s) that Tom had a particularly daunting conversation with one Severus Snape and after a particularly rousing ‘altercation’, Snape was found about three blocks outside the city limits with his body covered in about _twenty-five stab wounds_ and two of his fingers missing. Something was particularly rotten and Regulus duly noted how Bella seemed to not be home during the time in question. But, then again, he wouldn’t say that _out loud_ , of course. 

“Well..” Regulus began as Tom rested a particularly cold hand on his shoulder and ushered him to the spacious living room where Rodolphous Lestrange laid on his back with a smear of blood over his nose and mouth and he was snoring quite loudly with a steadily dripping can of PBR that slowly tipped over, urging him to drop it. 

“We actually came to view some of your finer substances as we’re having a party on this fine evening.” Sirius’ voice cut through their conversation and Tom turned to him with a small crick of his neck. 

“And _what_ were you hoping to acquire from our stock, Mr. Black? And _how much_?” Tom pinched his nose gingerly before he moved past Regulus, taking time to grip his shoulder before pushing him back. He moved into the kitchen and reached under the island and hefted a container of labelled products up, carefully watching the approaching brothers with what could only be labelled as an enigmatic expression.

**_fuckfuckfuckfuck—_ **

“We really just need enough for…” Sirius trailed off, using his fingers to count briefly before his eyes met Tom’s. “…about six people.” which _probably_ meant it was only for him and James, unless they were feeling particularly philanthropic that night. “Recommendations are more than welcome, though.” 

At this point, they were _**all**_ predestined to die of overdoses from drugs probably laced with some quality South-American drug lord’s good shit.

Suddenly, the speakers boomed and Tom Riddle’s head snapped up from his very careful assessment of his stock and he pointed at Rabastan Lestrange, who was currently chopping a line and nodding his head.

 “Hey, is that Drake? I fucking **_love_** Drake, man.”

* * *

 

Lily’s arms were wrapped leisurely around Marlene’s neck as they laid together in bed, her head pressed against Marlene’s naked breasts and gently flicking her brown nipples as they pebbled against the cold air.

 She sat up, gathering waterfalls of fiery red hair up onto the top of her head in a ball and looked outside. “D’you want to go and grab a bite before we meet up with Frank and Alice? I could really go for some Indian food about now.”

 “ _Really_?” Marlene slid off the bed and tugged down her lace shorts, pulling on a t-shirt that made her look a little less than reliable with a small cock drawn between her breasts. Lily just crawled back towards the pillows and rested her head against the headboard, watching Marlene flounce about the room, turning over papers on her desk in search of a cellular. “I kind of fancy a burger right about now.” 

“That’s not something that I feel like I’d agree with at the moment.” Lily’s fingers splayed across her abdomen and she watched Marlene hop from one point of the room to another, hair slumping out of a frizzy bleached ball into a tumbling array of blonde curls hanging sloppily to one side as she tugged on a pair of trainers and fell back against the edge of the bed, bringing the back over her heel. Her bottom lip poked out into a frown before she reached over and unlocked her phone. There were a few unread messages, one from a particularly pissed Sirius Black.

 

  * lils, look here


  * i’m buying drugs, right


  * and like


  * we’re at the lestranges & t. ridd is here. kind of scared tbh 


  * but what am i supposed to /buy/



Her fingers moved swiftly over the screen, brows pulled together in criticism.

  * **i don’t know? get whatever you want. but i’m bringing marlene.**



His response was almost immediate:

  * marlene? fuck, babe. i literally just bought enough weed for the gang. 


  * that’s more money i have to spend??? like can you consistently communicate w/ me pls?


  * **ur family is rich.**


  * okay but i saw a very posh cluse watch on instagram and i planned on buying it tonight 


  * **that sounds like a personal problem**


  * …you’re a cunt, evans.



Lily threw her phone onto the blue rug and climbed off the bed once more, slipping on her sandals and throwing on her flannel shirt. She grabbed her satchel and Marlene’s on the way before they began out the apartment and downstairs, looking around at the hustling street with ambivalent expressions. 

They climbed on the bus and Marlene pulled out a sucker and stuck it in her mouth and daintily held the white stick, looking at Lily who just watched her with discerning eyes before she pulled the sucker out of her mouth and then stuck it in her own, crossing her long legs and looking over out the window with a soft sigh.

 Marlene’s hand found her hand and gently squeezed as she settled back in the bus seat, ignoring a very steady glare from an old white woman sitting on the opposite side of the bus. Lily just ran idle fingers through her hair before she snorted and looked Marlene in the eye. 

“You’re really gay.”


End file.
